


Bones Exposed

by ivyleaguenerd



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Author Doesn’t Know How To Tag, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insecurity, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Overstimulation - Nonsexual, Sad with a Happy Ending, Scratching, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, aus loves mitchy through everything, basically i vented, mitchy suffers here, no beta we die like men, pls be aware this could be potentially triggering pls, very sorry abt that, water u gonna do abt it?, wrote this in an hour n a half
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:29:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27586112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivyleaguenerd/pseuds/ivyleaguenerd
Summary: A cut cannot heal unless you leave it alone. That’s why Mitch opens his (daily), leaving bones exposed.
Relationships: Mitch Marner/Auston Matthews
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38





	Bones Exposed

It’s a well known fact that Mitch Marner is one of he most talkative people among his team, one of the most blissful and shiny faces to ever come across. His energy is as high as the clouds in the sky, his conversation topics bounce off of one another from planet to planet and none of them really connect at a time. His smile is one of the brightest to be seem, as in bright enough to blind and start a fire with a mirror’s assistance. 

Through all of the weeks of his rookie year, that was the way it remained. Intact, as it should be. Even through his straining, flimsy games and crappy plays, he kept his head high and managed his mood to please others. 

That alone was part of the issue, though. Others. For some reasons beyond his grasp, Mitch felt as though he could never truly please others. Even if that meant he’d practically bled out trying to save the others in the scenario, it wasn’t enough. He’d give his guts to zombies if it meant they’d give him a thumbs up in response. 

Which was why it was a problem, his people pleasing. His standards for himself were hand in hand, he was never surpassing or providing to the standards he set for himself. The standards in question were entirely built upon the critiques and for lack of a formal term, the insults he’d received for his behavior through the years. All the way back to when he was a pipsqueak, and was ‘too loud’ to the current days where he was ‘a waste of the Leafs’ money,’ and ‘a failed draft runt of a good class.’ To say it was harsh was an absolute understatement, because that was considered just merely scraping the surfaces of what he thought about every single day. 

When combined, it became ugly. 

Around the midst of the 2017 season, Mitch’s unforgettable light in his eyes and enjoyment in his tone had begun to dampen, or weaken. At the same time, Mitch’s appearance in the room began to get quieter. 

This was first noticed by Auston, who couldn’t help but ache on his own at the thought that his lovely boyfriend was in some sort of pain. It made Auston feel guilty in some ways, that he had no idea what troubled his lover and couldn’t seem to plead an answer from him regardless of how high pitched his voice got when he begged. 

(“Mitch, please. If something’s wrong and I don’t know what it is, I can’t help fix it or make it better. You have to tell me so I can help. If not, just tell me so I can understand it and support you. Please. I just wanna be here for you, you know that.” Auston’s hands clutched Mitch’s, rubbing the pads of his thumbs back and forth over the pale knuckles and fingers connected.

“Aus, I promise. It’s fine. It’s really not even that deep. What is deep is my next question, which is, do you want Chipotle or do you want Pad Thai Place?” Mitch deflected, not having the energy or the courage to go down the slightest depth to this road of conversation tonight. He just intended on sharing dinner with Auston and cuddling up for bed, not crying about his feelings and clutching his chest. So he did what he had to do by passing the tennis ball back over the net to Auston, ball in his court style. For reasons Auston wouldn’t ever be prepared to hear, this was just a safer way to allow the evening to dwindle down and die out. 

“If I give you my answer, can you tell me what’s wrong?” Relentless, is another good word to describe the defiance and persistence that Auston has towards just finding out what it may be. If Auston was a cop, or some sort of investigator, he’d be a really fucking good one. With his bribery tricks and all his consistency in riding on the same topic for a long time. 

“Fine. Sure.” Mitch sighed, immediately trying to scrape his brain for some tiny minuscule thing to blame his slight shade on. 

“Chipotle and please make sure to ask for extra jalapeños on my burrito, please. Now it’s your turn. Tell me, please?” Auston let go of Mitch’s hands, and watched as Mitch just slid his phone out of his front pocket of his jeans and opened it up to the Chipotle app. 

“It’s cause Babs had an attitude today and I was tired this morning and it threw me off more than usual. It was so weird too, cause normally, I couldn’t care less. It just sorta poked at my tired self, I guess. I’m fine now, though. Especially cause I’m with you.” Mitch smiled, adding Auston’s ridiculously spicy combination of ingredients inside of a tortilla into the cart and making sure to turn the screen for him to see. 

“Whenever I’m with you, I’m always happy. Unless you eat one of my cookies, like the last one. But then you say sorry and pout and we go buy more so really, I am always happy to be with you. I’m sorry though that you were tired, and that you had a sour mood cause of it. I’m here for you though, Mitchy.” Auston cooed, all of his words just pouring out like melted butter.

Sticking to Mitch’s skin with a strength incomparable to that of any hand soap they had. It was just impossible to avoid the feelings of dazed butterflies banging around his heart, and the heat in his cheeks as a product of the words. 

“I know you are. I’m always here for you the same way. Except for when you need toilet paper and I’m feeling particularly lazy. That you can do all by yourself, big man.” Mitch teased, and Auston’s laugh caused him to just giggle and bask in his comedic talents.)

Then, Morgan came over with Freddie to play some video games with Mitch and Auston. Abruptly and with no warning, Mitch received a phone call from his father that required him to take a step outside of the living room and close the door to the bedroom behind him as he swiped at the screen to answer. 

(Even after the call had ended, Mitch sat in the midst of the room on the bed, staring intensely at the space on the sheets between his thighs. 

“Mitchy? You done in there?” Morgan’s voice protruded the swarming thoughts of Mitch’s mind, and the clicking of the door handle as it was turning caused a strong disconnect between Mitch and his overthinking space. 

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” Mitch scrambled to swipe away the slight trace of tears from his cheeks as he sat up in the bed and yanked his sleeves down over his hands. With all of the hope in his heart, he prayed to any God that was still there for him that Morgan hadn’t heard him sniffling. That Morgan would be entirely unaware of the crying that Mitch had just done, of the brutality of the insults that Mitch rolled around his head among the walls of his own room. 

“You good? Champions are coming after this round, and Fredex is in the lead right now. Thinkin’ that Aus needs you, buddy.” Morgan’s tone was so gentle, so passive and so kind. It was so healing to Mitch in a way beyond his own words, and he wished he could just hug Morgan whenever he really particularly came to appreciate his nature. 

“Oh shit, yeah no, I’m coming, say less, say less, Marner v. Rielly Final, eh?” Mitch raised a brow to pose the question, a teasing gesture to their history of the friendship they had. A very respected, appreciated and adored brotherly friendship, of course. It always seemed in some weird way to be Mitch and Morgan against the world until they beat the world, left to face only one another for the face-off of the century. 

“That’s what I’m talkin’ bout, it’s on Mitchy!” Morgan clenched a fist and raised it over his head, pulling it down by his side before extending it back out in a punch toward Mitch but not making any contact. 

“It’s so on Mo, dead on.” Mitch gave a stern nod and attempted some seriousness, before rushing a fit of laughter right through his lips and hopping up from the bed. On his way off, grabbing Morgan’s hand to make sure he didn’t tumble right over his own two feet face first into a wall.)

Even more time passed and everything seemed to become way too obvious to everyone. Once other people outside of Auston and Morgan realized something was wrong, he felt trapped. Like an ant under a magnifying glass or a petri dish on a microscope, absolutely being watched at all times. Very seriously monitored, as if his own friends had some sort of log of his actions they put together at the end of the day- serious. 

(“Marns, you alright o’er there?” Broke the silence in the post-game locker room, coming from his own damn captain, JT. 

“Yeah. Just tired.” Mitch’s voice was quiet, hushed, much less energy behind his words than anything ever seen from him before. His eyes had nearly lost all of their glimpse, all of their sparkle. Not to mention the fact that they seemed to barely be holding themselves open, as if it pained him to even be awake and functioning right now. The bags that accessorized the lack of light in his eyes made it clear that it was true, to some extent, that Mitch was tired. There was more depth to the statement than a simple sleepless night. 

“Here for ya, you do know that, right bud?” JT tapped his shoulder with his glove, sliding it off as he continued to get undressed and prepared for a good shower.)

“Yeah. Thanks, T.” Mitch felt ashamed as he heard his own mouth practically slur out his words, and he was alerted by this new giveaway type of behavior. He needed to get the fuck out of that locker room, that arena, the whole damn section of Toronto and back to somewhere a lot more private as fast as he could do so. 

On that note, Mitch untangled his gear off his body as fast as his fingers could move, just slamming it into his duffle bag to rid it for now. He threw on a hoodie that probably smelled like actual garbage, a pair of sweats and a pair of mismatched socks as he practically bolted right out of there. For whatever reason it may have been, Auston had driven himself to the arena that evening which gave Mitch one less thing to concern himself with for tonight. 

Once he got home, he tossed his duffle down on the floor, ditched greeting his dog and rushed his way down the halls toward his bedroom. As soon as he snatched a towel off of his rack in the bathroom, he hopped into the shower and turned the water on to the highest heat setting it could go. 

The burning of the water couldn’t even break Mitch from his head, couldn’t stop his hands from gripping roughly at his skin. Shredding the skin at the slightest of contact with his fingernails, repetitively all over his body. Starting at his throat once he struggled to breathe, down his collarbones and chest. Along the sides of his waist and across his hips, onto his thighs right after. As his body shriveled into a ball of his knees up tight to his chest, the fingernails traced up and down his calves as he tore apart the skin along the bone down that went down to his feet.

For thirty minutes, he sunk into the way the water embraced his lack of control and let it drown him alongside his thoughts. He’d reached his breaking point, knowing he was riding the edge of this state of being for far too long. 

Blown through too many smiles, spat out too many encouraging phrases, held too many hands, lifting too many chins. Especially when his own was tucked against his own throat, hanging low and mocking the way he motioned for motivation and hope among the people he was surrounded by. Friends, family, teammates, his own boyfriend and sometimes even his own damn dog. All of his kindred heart ached as he felt his actions hypocritically afflict his head’s heaviest hurt, and the way he really saw the world. 

A knock on the bathroom door barely had the strength to wake him from his dazed and slumped over state, as he laid in a ball on the floor of the tub. The shower head just continuing to spew fiery water down, trickling all over the sensitive and damaged skin. Stinging each and every little wound he created with his fingernails alone, and breaking down his larger decrepit thoughts into smaller sharper insults. 

“Mitchy baby, did you forget we had a date tonight? I showed up on time and waited and-and, can I just—come in and talk? This is so awkward, through a door.” Auston’s voice was louder than the water, and loud enough to project through the door. Elevated enough to pop the bubble that Mitch’s brain had been suffocating in, thankfully. Even if it was raised to reach through to the other side of the door, it wasn’t angry, it sounded distressed. 

“I’m coming in now, you better be busy in there doing something important, like washing your hair or some-,” From the second the door handle clicked as it slid past the holster it locked into, Mitch realized his fate for the evening had been sealed. Signed, sealed, delivered, received, and that shamefully; nothing could have prepared Auston for what he was forced to face on the other side of that door. 

“I-I’m sorry, I’m so-sorry, I’m-I’m so sorry,” Mitch cried, just letting it all go. Flowing as harshly and roughly as the shower water did, as strong as waters off the top of a mountain rushing into rivers below and crashing along the jagged rocks on the way down. 

“Oh my god, oh Mitch,” Auston whispered, rushing to the knobs in the shower and cranking them off as fast as his hands would allow him to do so. This unfortunately made the red lines that rid Mitch’s pale skin much more visible and Auston felt nauseated almost immediately. 

“I, Auston, Aus, I’m so-so sorry, so so-sorry,” Mitch just hiccuped through his apologies, feeling as though if nothing more could be provided, he owed Auston that, at least. He could barely move himself from his crippled and curled up position, let alone even ponder the process of getting off of the floor of the shower. So he just apologized, blinded by his shame regarding the state of which he laid in before Auston’s petrified eyes. 

“Oh Mitch, come, come here, sit up baby, come on,” Auston’s hushed voice pleaded, griping for his shoulders and hooking fingers to his armpits to lift him into a position where he was at least sitting up. From there, he grabbed the towel and wrapped it around Mitch’s shoulders. “Let’s just, let’s just get you standing for a second okay, baby, I know it’s tough but try your hardest just to get there for just a second, please baby,” Auston grabbed for Mitch’s waist, cradling the towel around the rest of his painfully harmed body. As soon as Mitch was secure in the towel, Auston picked him up and carried him into the bedroom. 

“I’m sorry Aus, I reall-really am, I-I’m sorry,” Mitch continued, racking sobs out with every breath he took in. 

“Shh, baby please, please, shh, it’s okay, it’s gonna-it’s gonna be alright, I’m here, okay, please,” Auston heart was shattered into a million more pieces as he was forced to endure the whimpered apologies rushing out of his poor boyfriend’s shuddering lips. With ease, Auston placed Mitch on the bed, on his side of the bed before rushing to his own nightstand to grab for some lotion. Something, anything to soothe the raging and seething scratch marks that tread all over Mitch’s skin. 

“I mean it, I-I mean it, Aus, I-I mea-mean it, I do, I-I’m sorry,” Mitch repeated, not really knowing what else he could say. As if it would absolve the situation, as if it would turn the clock back, as if it would erase the scalding marks among his scorched skin. Take away the disgusting vision that Auston faced of his broken down body in the shower, just lock the door as he would have attempted to pried it open.

“Baby, I’m here, it’s alright. I’m here, I-I’m here now, I’m here,” Auston would be lying through his teeth if he claimed that he had any idea how to respond, while he sat on the bed right next to the shivering body of his boyfriend. 

“I’m just gonna put some cream on you, alright baby? Cause you’re hurt and I don’t want that, so I’m gonna move the towel and it’s gonna be cold but-but I gotta get some cream on the scratches, okay baby?” Auston would also be hopelessly lying if he tried to say that removing the towel from Mitch’s body to reveal the torn skin hadn’t absolutely obliterated his courage to do so, or if he claimed that it hadn’t wrecked his heart to actually see all of the marks in a clear light. 

“Kay, okay, go ‘head, please, and thank you, thank-thank you, Aus, thank you so-so much,” Mitch was clearly making his best attempt toward calming his breathing, and it was showing. Which was a good thing, a great thing at that. It was a task that Mitch didn’t think he had the strength to do, but the fact that he was pushing through his doubts made him feel a even better toward accomplishing some sort of relaxed state of mind. 

“You’re so welcome baby, so so welcome.” Auston was still doing his best to keep a steady tone of voice, to avoid any faltering or tripping on his words as his purpose was now to soothe and calm Mitch. So he uncapped the lotion and pushed out a good amount in his palm before rubbing it together in his hands to warm it a bit, spreading it all over Mitch’s chest as a starting point. He led his hands down, over his thighs. Then moving along his calves, which he pumped a little more from the tube before rubbing all over the aggravated and open scratches littered there. 

“It hurts Aus, stings,” Mitch whimpered, his voice a bit shaky but he was really close to reaching a good stable breathing pace. In hopes of not ruining his progress, he bit down on his bottom lip and clenched it under his tension of his top row of teeth. 

“I know baby, I know, I-I know but you’re doing so good, you’re doing amazing okay, just a little longer,” Auston let a breath out through his louth, forced it out of his tight chest, before inhaling to ask; “Alright, okay Mitchy, are there any on your back?” He couldn’t say that he anticipated a yes, but he wouldn’t dare scold or shame Mitch for responding with that. 

“Yes but, but I’m really sorry, Aus, I mean it, I am,” Mitch stuttered again, before using some forced strength in his arms and legs to lift his upper body and lower body to turn over on his back. He was still on the towel though, attempting to avoid getting the lotion on the sheets. 

“It’s alright baby, no more apologies, please, it-it’s alright, I promise, we’re okay, we’ll be okay,” Auston whispered again, kissing the back of Mitch’s hand before forcing some more lotion out of the tube and spreading it all over Mitch’s afflicted skin. 

A month or so later, after that traumatizing, broken night of events, Mitch had gotten a therapist. 

For a little while after, during the weeks of time spent looking for the right one and setting up a good session time, the locker room was off in terms of it’s typical nature due to cautious approaching and general nervousness about fragility in interactions due to Mitch’s incident. 

Yet once Mitch got on a good session schedule, and was actively working with his therapist and the team to work out his once suppressed internal processing and behavioral response issues, the light began to come back. 

Like the night Mitch made brownies for the team and brought them to just show how good the recipe was and how he really wanted everyone to enjoy the same bliss he felt when he tried one. 

Or when he invited the team to a huge dinner at his and Auston’s place, to which he cooked an entire three course meal for. Just to share some good eats and laughs, and play some CHEL. 

It was definitely clear that Mitch’s light came back when Auston cradled him close to his chest, a hand on his shoulder and another holding both of his hands in one of Auston’s. Eye to eye, Auston’s lips to his forehead as he smiled in pure serenity and joy curated by the moment shared. 

“I told you, I promised you, that we’d be okay. Look at us now, baby. We are, right?” Auston whispered, into the soft locks of Mitch’s brown hair as it laid about his head. 

“We are always okay, and yeah, your promise held true. So yeah, you’re right, as always.” Mitch gave a little chuckle, leaning his lips up to meet Auston’s in a gentle kiss. Simultaneously giving Auston’s hand a loving squeeze for emphasis. 

“I love you so much, Mitchy. I’m so fucking glad you’re doing better now. I’m just so fucking glad to be here for you, with you, just like forever. You and I, forever would be golden for me.” Auston muttered against his cheeks, his lips just grazing it so gently as he spoke. 

“You and I, forever against the world. Never against each other, though.” Mitch hummed in response, sliding a hand free to use a fingertip to tilt Auston’s head back down to his for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> hi i know this hurt a lot probably to read but nothing like this really exists and i wanted it to so i could read something that relayed kind of what has been happening for me i guess :/ so while it sucks and is sad, auston still loves him and he still cares for him even in a dark moment and they do heal and things can be okay again. pls pls pls know that things may suck very terribly at times but it does get better, and it can. only if you really want it to, and there are thousands of places to go and people to talk to if you are suffering in any way like mitch is. i have a tumblr, @ivyleaguenerd and my inbox is always open so i am here if you personally need someone to chat with, 741741 is the US crisis text help line, and they can provide a multitude of resources to help you get help you may want or need. you are so incredibly loved and pls do not ever forget your worth or let others crush your view of your worth. 
> 
> i hope you enjoyed it in some way, and just know that i’m here for ya’ll.


End file.
